


Sin of hate

by FelliSkelli



Category: Full Metal Alchemist
Genre: Alchemical Experiments, Cat Girl, Drug Addiction, Dubious Consent, F/M, Feral cat girl, Humonculi - Freeform, Multi, Murder, Oral Sex, Ownership, PTSD, Rape, Sex, Short Temper, Torture, Trauma, Underage Sex, heat - Freeform, scientific experiments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8116774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelliSkelli/pseuds/FelliSkelli
Summary: A human-Chimera and created to kill, Kew-Mei Chang is a feral cat-girl who hates every human, especially the doctor who created her. She has been 'rescued' by the Homunculi, what will that mean for humanity? Taken to Father, what does he do? Make her his HATE. Wrath/OC, Slight Envy/OC, Slight Kimblee/OC.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A fanfiction I began worked on years ago, but one of my favorite pieces, so I thought I'd share it here too. Especially since it's not finished yet. XD

Whispers in the streets spoke of a place called the 'Facility'.

The Facility was hidden in the forest, and almost entirely off the radar of the public. It claimed to be a pharmaceutical company and was thought by those who read into it to be a cover for a corrupt businessman, but the truth was much darker.

The small beige stone facade one saw when they entered the clearing it nestled in did not lead much in the way of a sense of magnificence to the building. It did not seem much to look at, but that was because aside from the cover of some small lab rooms, offices, lounge, and administrative staff, the majority of the building was underground. Underground was almost a mile of tunneling halls, extensive alchemically advanced laboratories, and cells filled with all manner of beings. Mainly Chimeras of all types and in all stages of development.

The man in charge went by the name 'Doctor', and he had been curious about the development of Chimera for years, and wanted to find the effects of such changes on humans as well as animals. As a side project he desired to create super-human weapons to be sold to the highest bidder.

He decided to use children. They would be easier to control, and he could monitor their growth better, and control every little detail down to their metabolism and hormones. He had his men scour the countryside for likely subjects. He had needed young and malleable children; who were strong mentally and physically, showing signs of alchemical abilities, and would not be likely missed. The fact that he had government funding (from the Fuhrer himself!) only spurred him on in his efforts to fanatical levels.

He was not the only man delving into research of Chimeras, but he was determined to be the best. The search for the proper subjects took months. Finally the search paid off in gold. The results of the search was a small band of immigrants from Xing, the country to the West of Amestris across a vast desert. Immigrants were unusual and rare, but unlike the pacifistic Ishvalan who shunned Alchemy, Xingese were known to utilize their own form called Alkhestry. There were many children included in the band, as the group of immigrants was made of a dozen family groups with almost fifteen children between them. Some of the children were too old to be used though, and had already begun puberty. A mother had died on the trip through the desert, along with several other of the adults, the group of immigrants were exhausted and unprepared for any attack. The Doctor's men killed the adults, took all the children, and no one in Amestris knew anything at all about the abductions. The Doctor saw it as Heaven-sent.

The experiments were not started immediately, which simply made everything that much the crueler. For a while the man actually fed the children and clothed them and took care of them. Then, without warning, about six months after they kidnapped the eight children the doctor deemed usable, everything changed. They were segregated, never to see one another again, put into individual cells that were dark and lonely to begin a psychological breakdown to make the children emotionally dependent on the scientists.

\--

The children had been so trusting; it had been too easy to manipulate them. The oldest was only six, so that was understandable. There were two four year olds, a three year old, a two year old and three one year olds. The fact that they all survived the journey across the vast desert to the east when even adults couldn't handle it boded well for their strength, endurance, and constitution. Which made them perfect for his experiments.

Two of the youngest were twins, which made them his favorite prospective subjects. They were both boys, the other infant was a girl, as was the two year old and six year old. The three year old and both four year olds were male. While all the rest of the children were to be segregated, even from their siblings (one of the four year olds was older brother to the two year old, and the six year old was older sister to the three year old), the twins would need a more discerning touch, to see how the supposed bonds that twins shared would affect the experiment. One would be the control in his experimental design.

But the twins were not the only interesting specimens. Two year old Kew-Mei Chang and her four year old brother, Mu Piao Chang were his second favorite pair. Mu Piao had already been showing interest in the way of learning Alkhestry, he had told the doctor all about his experiments; the boy had been very talkative and forth-coming, and his sister had shown promise and been incredibly precocious and already speaking full sentences and just learning to read, he had boasted proudly; his sister held on his lap while he explained to the doctor how smart she was.

And she was smart; she did not have a large vocabulary, and at two her soft palate had not fused completely so she slurred a little, but she did speak very well, and she comprehended things at the level of a five or six year old. And most telling, she spoke Amestrisian as well as she did Xingese. She was a sweet, trusting little child; breaking her would be the easiest thing to do.

\--

The girl never knew why the world went horrible; just that one day the pretty man who had taken her brother and friends to a wonderful library had smiled at her and called her Kew-chan and fed her sweets, and the next he was cold and dark and hateful; they were fed terrible tasting concoctions and strapped onto cold tables and poked and prodded. From that day on the experimentations and augmentations were started. As far as the girl knew she and her brother and the other children had the same tests and experiments done on them; but then, she knew very little if anything about her brother after they were separated. Due to all the horrible and agonizing experiments she almost entirely forgot him, and it wasn't until a chance conversation she overheard between the doctor and his men some many years later that she even knew she had a brother in the first place.

She had re-learned of him when she was seven.

It was after another day in the pit, she had defeated her opponent easily -a pitiful dog/cat/rat mix- and her reward was yet more augmentations. She had been strapped to a cold bare table; her frail but wiry arms strapped above her head by thick leather straps and her thighs and ankles with similar straps. One would think such a thing a little excessive for a malnourished and waif-like child, but even back then she had been stronger than normal. He had just injected some sort of animal enzymes into her side and then used alchemy to speed the process up, and thought she was unconscious.

She had actually been awake; weary, and in pain, but awake. She had heard him enter the room so closed her eyes and lay still while he proceeded to talk to one of his men. She could not remember what he had said exactly, but remembered him speaking of her brother. Her brother! That had been a terrible shock to her. She spent the next year doing nothing but think of him, wondering, hoping.

She even became somewhat placid and docile; allowing him to think he had cowed and tamed her.

Once she had him convinced of her docility she made her escape; she had become seemingly lethargic and emotionless; and he had become increasingly more and more careless. After several days of him leaving her cell (such as it was, at that time it was simply a small faded and bare room with a cot and a stool; bigger than her current cell, and warmer, but somehow worse than her current cell; because it made it seem like she was a guest...instead of an experiment, a prisoner) unlocked, she made her escape.

She had slipped out easily during the night and had carefully explored the halls, trying valiantly to find her brother. After several desperate hours of elusive searching, she found him. Unfortunately she was found by the doctor at almost the same time, before she had gotten more than a glimpse of him.

From what little she was able to see of him he had dark blue hair, black eyes, and what looked to be the beginnings of black wings. She was unable to tell if they were feathered or not. He was gaunt, just as underfed as she, and his face was haunted and brooding –much as she figured hers must have looked like- and his hair shaggy and unkempt. The doctor had been furious and rough with her as he dragged her back to his workroom to 'punish' her. She never tried to escape again, and her punishment left her with a permanent scar from her collarbone to her navel.

The doctor increased his efforts to destroy her humanity, and some might say he had succeeded.

She had lost all memories of her past, including any recollection to what her name may have been. For now, all she knew was that she was experiment # 133.

He had begun experimenting on her when she was three. Each year on what he kept saying was her birthday; he would ramp up the trials exponentially. He began with simple transmutation circles and some base elements to add to her system as well as more mundane drug trials. Each year he made the tests more complicated.

When she was six she was put in the pit for the first time. She was to fight other Chimera, pure animal bases at first, and the ones that were practically dead. The Doctor wanted her to get a taste for blood, for killing. At first she resisted, but only at first. It only took three sets of punishments that she could no longer remember before she began to enjoy her time in the pits. She was free of chains, not tied to a table. She was in control, and able to hurt someone else. And she was also given endorphin boosts anytime she successfully defeated an opponent. She became addicted to the pits.

At eight she began to be pitted against some failed Chimera subjects with human bases. The fact that they were like her -not exactly like her; she still looked wholly human at this point, they did not- hardly gave her more than an initial moment of pause before she treated them just as she had any other opponent. Without mercy.

When she was nine, her thin but still round feature begun turning sharper and more defined, and her cat-like attributes grew. He had started with including cat blood into the alchemical circle, and even feeding her cats. Her ears were larger than normal, and came to a sharp definite point, her canines were all half again as large as norm, and her eyes became a darker indigo, almost black which was luminescent in the dark. Her fingers grew to resemble claws. Her once lush blue-black hair was now thicker and so dark as if to suck the light from the room. Her hair was mostly unkempt, tangled and messy, waist-length and usually half obscuring her face.

Later that year a serious of events that were disastrous; the circle had been smudged ever so slightly by an errant assistant, the cat included in the circle had had rabies, and the mismatch of chemicals in her body (he had been trying to speed her growth and change the shape of her bones at the same time) which had begun to feed on each other and turned into a hormone boast which fed her into a stream of constant anger; she went feral, but still kept her mind. That was when she was moved to her new cell, the chains added after she had killed three of The 'Doctor's' men.

It was soon after that that the Doctor had discovered that one of his assistants had been sneaking in books for the girl for almost four years now. They had been small books of course, but books on the history of the area, maths, sciences (including human and animal biology and physiology), alchemy, and of all things, manners; all having become increasingly complicated over the years. The girl had an eidetic memory, and so despite her captivity she was very well learned, although she had hid it from the Doctor with an almost instinctual fervor. She had been almost fond of the man who had been smuggling such covert gifts to her (however she could not even remember him now), but with her new shift of attitude due to the incident, she had given him away in a moment of blind rage. The Doctor was not pleased, and to punish them both he made the girl kill the man. She refused at first (even though she had been angry with him, he was the first being to ever be kind to her, and she felt she owed him some level of loyalty) but was injected with a substance that caused her to go into a berserker rage. When she came to, the man was pulp. She felt no regret, no sorrow. But she did feel that his death was the end of her empathy, she would never allow anyone close to her again. Never allow any weakness.

By the time she was twelve her pupils had turned to slits, her irises were electric-blue and had the tendency to glow blood-red in the dark, her canines more pronounced and her claws more dangerous. She fought stronger creatures now, some pumped up on adrenalin, some hooked on other drugs. She always won, despite being underfed and consistently small for her age.

\---------

When she awoke, it was to pitch blackness. Her eyes adjusted, and she felt her pupils growing and knew that if anyone was to see them now, they would think her eyes were red rather than blue. Unlike humans -the word made into an insult laced with disgust in her mind- she could see perfectly well in the dark. Once her eyes adjusted, she snarled to find that she could only make the vaguest distinctions between the wall and the door. She swung her head around slowly, her eyes piercing the darkness. Taking everything in, she discovered that she was standing on her feet, her arms strung up above her head. There was a thick chain attached to her wrists by large, heavy metal cuffs, and from that a third chain connecting to a large metal collar around her neck. After struggling in vain for several minutes –receiving only skinned and raw wrists and a sore neck- she leaned against the cold, almost wet, stone wall of her cell.

For that's what it was. A small cell, dark, dank, musty and cold. The walls were rough-hewed stone, moss growing in a few crevices near the ceiling. The floor was smoothed down and the ceiling as well, but it was mostly just a stone box. If she was free of the chains –each link as thick as her thumb- she would be across the cell with two steps –normal steps even, not strides- it was five feet by five feet, the only door a three inch thick solid steel door without even a small window. No light was allowed in her dank cell, for if she was able to get even the weakest beam of light on her pale, bruised flesh, she would be able to escape.

Because of some of the chemicals that had been injected in her over the years her body had become strangely attuned to sunlight, caused her to gain a very strange reaction to sunlight; sun strengthened her. It was only for a very short duration, more like the burst of strength one would get from a berserker rage. Then once she'd finished absorbing whatever it was her body did from the sun, she would lose that strength. But that would be enough for her to break her chains, and possibly the door too. But that train of thought was pointless. There was no sun here.

She jerked her right wrist away from the wall while throwing the rest of her body weight to the left with an impatient snarl. Her snarl turned to a smothered growl of rage which escaped through clenched fangs when all she succeeded in doing was popping her wrist out of its socket. With her teeth clenched so tight that she felt her jaws lock; she rammed her wrist against the wall shoving all her weight behind it and popping her wrist back in.

She hung there sweating for several minutes, her jaws aching and her wrist throbbing. Swearing under her breath –using words learned from listening to the 'Doctor' swear- she shook her head and glowered at the door.

This was what she had woken up to every day for the last four years, since she had turned nine, and the doctor's experiments had shown promise. Except for the fact that she had gone feral. That's what he called her anyway. At thirteen she was stronger than most fully grown humans, and faster as well. Which one would not expect from one underfed, pale, frail looking little girl. She hardly looked ten, much less thirteen. She was only 4'4" which was quite short for her age, and she would have been very underweight were it not for muscles weighing more than fat and the fact that her bones were heavier than normal. All in all she looked incapable of scaring even a butterfly. That is, until one saw her ears, her fangs, or worse of all, her eyes; eyes that looked far too old for her face, bitter and hard and angry.

Every morning for the first month since she was chained some poor fool would get in and try to feed her, usually leaving with a finger missing. But eventually the doctor found someone able to feed her –forcibly mind you- but even then she ate very little. Then the doctor would do experiments and tests on her for hours on end, feed her lunch –she knew he only fed her so she would be strong enough bodily for the augmentations to take hold- send her into the pit to fight, or into a big room with many devices to test her strength/speed and so forth, then back into her cell with dinner, and then left chained until morning. It went on like this, day in and day out until she turned 15, and then everything changed. For better or worse she could hardly describe.


	2. Experiment 133

Exp. # 133 opened her eyes slowly, growling slightly with how stiff she was. Her chest ached with the effort of simply breathing and her ribs burned with a dull throbbing pain. She hated how weak they made her. She hated how they kept her chained like a beast; which she couldn't actually blame them for since technically that was how she behaved around them. She hated how they treated her; like a possession, an item, a doll. She hated everything about them in fact. But what she hated most was the fact that she was unable to fight back effectively. She should have been able to, should have done so already, but ever since she had killed her sixth man three years ago they had started tranquilizing her at her least little lunge. That left her able only to snarl and glare with impunity.

The only time she was released of her bonds -psychical and chemical- was when she was in the pit, and then was the only time she was free. And she was almost happy in these moments, because killing was so easy for her. She loved to bury her hands in the internal organs of the Chimera she was set against. To fight them hand to hand, to destroy them, rip out their hearts, bite them. But none were a challenge for her anymore; she was beginning to get quite bored. And so she spent more and more time in the labs or in her cell. She had not been in the pits for a month now, and so was almost always chained to the wall.

"Damn... cowards" She hissed under her breath before chuckling darkly. "Not that I can truly blame them!" She was a terror, she truly was. Her claws and fangs could tear though muscle, and she was sure the doctor was aiming for her to be able to tear though bone as well sooner or later.

Sighing she closed her eyes and hung limply from her chains. She growled low in her throat and once again tried to tear her wrists from the chains on the wall. She didn't even stop when she felt blood trickle down her arms, but simply renewed her efforts. She was sick and tired of this filthy place. She was tired of been 'fed' a nasty substance, his excuse for food. (It was a sort of mishmash of meat and minerals, and tasted nasty. Needless to say, she refused to eat it most times. Which of course, meant that they force fed her most times. Which led to more violence then the act in itself really warranted.) She was sick of being injected with multiple chemicals daily. And it was some of those chemicals she needed to live day to day. (After all the alchemy drain done on her body, she had a chemical imbalance in her body as she was improperly fused. She hated that reliance as well.) She was sick of being poked and prodded and pulled at, and unable to do anything because of straps, chains and tranquilizers. She was sick of how they talked about her and to her. Like she was a stupid beast, or like she wasn't even there.

But yesterday had been the last straw. With a snarl and a sharp snap of her fangs she recalled with perfection how the day had gone from merely devastatingly normal, to worse.

\---The day before ----

She lay on her usual examination table, her arms above her head. There was a metal strap across her forearms, her chest –above her budding breasts- her stomach, her thighs, and her shins. Her hair lay about her in a cruel imitation of a halo, her bangs sticking to her face which was slick with perspiration. Her arms were aching and her legs were cramped up to her thighs. Her shoulders were bleeding in reaction to the injections, and she was fighting the urge to bite herself. She had been cut open again, to test her healing. It was only her right arm from shoulder to elbow, but it had made her almost gasp with pain. The fact that her arm was pulled up above her head and putting strain on her muscles did not help matters. She had become mostly accustomed to pain over the years, so much so that it hardly phased her anymore -and when it was very-very bad she could retreat into her mind- but the instrument he had used had been treated with an acidic substance which had burned her nerves almost unbearably. The experiment itself was a waste of time, her healing rate had not gotten any quicker than the last time he had tried, and because he did not want any drugs interfering with the experiment ha had not used any tranquilizers.

She swung her head to the side and snarled once eyes landed on the man she must call 'master'.

He was a slight man, with greasy dark hair and eyes of an indeterminable color. He wore thick lens over his eyes, further distorting them. He always seemed to have a cruel insane smirk on his visage. He wore a torn, blood splattered, off-white lab coat over baggy black clothes and never seemed to bathe. He had a strange charisma, an animal like magnetism, but she had grown immune to it years ago. He was holding yet another syringe in his hand, this one filled with a strange concoction which glowed a faint eerie green color. He also held a piece of black chalk in his hand. She recognized that chalk; it was what he used to inscribe his most complicated alchemical circles. She glowered balefully at that chalk.

He chuckled in response to her snarl in which she bared her fangs at him and growled low in her throat. He laughed, and had the gall to ruffle her hair; as if he felt affection for her! While she was in shock from his contact with her, he sunk the syringe into the side of her neck and pumped the foul potion into her bloodstream, at the same time he etched a alchemical circle around her head –lifting her head up momentarily while the mixture was permeating her and she was too stunned to bite, and finishing the circle- and then he made several hand signs and pressed his hands to the circle. The circle became a flume of poisonous green light which engulfed her head and she was lost in her screams of agony.

When she woke back up –her eyes still closed- it was a gradual floating up from the darkness she had been submerged in, and so she was able to keep her body limp and her breathing slow, pretending to still be unconscious. This was usually the only time she learned anything from the doctor about her situation; when he was talking to his men.

"-wants. We need to step up production." He was saying when she focused in on his conversation. Her mind was feeling thick and muddled; not so much from just having been unconscious but from the injection. "You scum need to stop slacking." He continued in a harsh, demanding tone, oblivious to his guinea pig laying torn and bleeding on the lab table.

She huffed her breath out once, a harsh little sound, barely audible, partially with pain and partially with the impatience of waiting for him to talk about her so she could find out what he was planning.

Her shoulders itched with caked dried blood, and throbbed slightly. Her hands were asleep and numb, her arms were sore, and her neck felt aflame. She was vaguely aware that her right upper arm had been stitched up. She could not feel her legs at all, and for the first time since she could remember, she felt nervous. She was not _afraid_ , whatever he did to her she would either survive, or she would die. Those were the only two outcomes. Neither outcome gave her any particular reason for fear. But she did not have any pleasure in her existence, and did not desire his control over her form. So she felt some trepidation over what new change he may have wrought. She resisted the urge to open her eyes and see if her legs were still there. She heard the doctor walking towards her, and slowed her breathing slightly.

He started poking her neck and chest and she started a mantra she had made for herself to remove herself from feeling. _Still as death, calm as death, his death, I will be his death..._

"It's coming around. Good." He said to his comrades. She could hear the self-righteous smirk in his voice.

"Well that's a new reaction from it; it doesn't usually turn black like that does it?" One of his lackeys asked, his voice fawning, he was trying to curry favor by acting like he knew what he was talking about. She recognized his voice as belonging to Tarrant, the man who 'fed' her.

"Yes." The doctor replied, pausing for effect. "It is biologically fifteen, but severely underdeveloped for it's age. It's puberty is stunted, as well as physiologically growth. I injected 133 with growth hormones and fertility enhancers, as well as some other chemicals to stimulate growth in the ears and tailbone." He explained. After hearing this she was pissed and more than a little confused. _What the hell? A tail? And my ears are plenty big enough already! And what's with the growth and hormones shit? Does this fucker plan on mating me or some shit? Better not!_ She yelled in her mind while keeping her body and breathing still. She was seething with anger, but held herself in check to find out –hopefully- the extent of his plans.

"And what's all that for?" asked one of the doctors duller assistants, Carl. She rolled her eyes internally at his stupidity. She heard the doctor sigh in exasperation and as he paced the room. She heard his hard soled boots clack sharply against the linoleum floor and heard the scruff and clack of a clip board being lifted of the desk. He shifted though the sheets loudly –at least to her ears- and then started speaking.

"Experiment 133 would have been the perfect assassin. Very fast, ferocious, intelligent, quiet, and with enhanced senses she would make the perfect prototype. If it had not been for it having gone feral that was... an oversight on my part I must admit. It is unable to tame, and any clones of it will just turn out the same." The doctor concluded with a definite sigh.

"So what, you want we should kill 'er then boss?" Said a particular idiot, one of which she was a little at loss as to why the doctor even hired him. Finster was not the brightest light bulb in the box.

"No, you infidel!" The doctor said harshly, and she heard the whish of something –the clipboard perhaps- flying through the air and the impact of it hitting the floor and shattering. "I've put twelve years of work into that thing; I'll not have you destroy all my hard work just like that." He continued with menace in his voice.

"Well sorry boss! But what are you wanting done with 'er then?" Finster said; sounding quite mollified to say the least.

"I've increased the growth of it's ears to enhance her sense of sound to a more sophisticated level, and I've started the growth of a tail for added balance in addition to it's increased speed. I've increased it's internal development so that it's puberty will be finally progress and at a vastly increased rate, and it will be ready to mate soon, and increased it's fertility so that it'll bare several children at a time. And then it's children will become my prototypes, and when it has borne enough children for my experiments to continue, then you can kill it." The doctor explained patiently. His plan caught her flat footed. _...The fuck? Not only is he going to mate me, soon, within weeks! But he's going to use all my babies for his sick deranged experiments...and then just off and kill me? FUCK NO! I don't think so! No-one is mating me; especially one of those fucking freaks!_ She thought, furious _. No way in fuck is he taking_ my _kittens._ She did not even notice the wash of maternal protection that washed over her. If she had thought of the possibilities of ever having children (kittens) even a moment before she would have scoffed, been disgusted. But now that it was a distinct possibility, she was defensive of the probable children. Meanwhile the doctor and his men were continuing their conversation.

"...Interesting plan sir." Tarrant said after a long pause. "Who's the... lucky... vic- I mean...mate?" He continued; a sneer in his voice. She snarled silently to herself and started very slowly relaxing her shoulders down and slowly, very slowly lifting her elbows and oh so slightly pulling her bloody wrists free from the metal strap.

"Why any one of you willing to take a go at her of course!" The doctor replied gaily. She stifled an indignant yelp and her wrists slipped back up in her surprise. She heard the three lackeys all step back and heard them gasp in shock at the doctor's proposition. "She'll be fully developed in three months time, and from then on she'll go into heat three times a year, starting after she reaches full maturity, a heat which will last a week. In that period she'll accept any mate, and you'll be safe to take her. Well?" The doctor explained. She seethed and clenched her teeth so heard she heard a molar crack. Her vision –such as it was with her eyes closed- was being bathed in red.

"I'll do her boss." Tarrant finally answered after several minutes of uncomfortable silence; his voice laced with lust and amusement. She cringed at his words and his tone. She had seen how he looked at her sometimes, and had not liked it in the least. It sent chills down her spine and caused her hair to stand on end. He disgusted her. He was a spineless worm, filthy and stupid (although smarter than Carl or Finster which really was not saying much). He was cruel and bad tempered too. Not that she wasn't, but he'd been cruel to her even when she'd been helpless, she knew that much in her very marrow of her bones even if she could not quite remember. It was a visceral reaction. He made her skin crawl and her blood boil. She'd rather fuck Carl. The only man she'd take Tarrant over would be the Doctor...and only just. _NO one is gonna TOUCH me and live._ She vowed silently to herself.

"I knew you would, you always were very proactive." The doctor laughed. That was the final straw for her. She pulled her arms down sharply, her eyes snapping open and she lunged with a furious snarl at her captor; having momentarily forgotten about the several other straps containing her. She gasped as the air was forced out of her lungs and was slammed back into the table. She saw stars when her head slammed down but was instantly wiggling in a panic to escape the straps and clawing at the doctor at the same time. She stopped when she heard laughter and turned to see the doctor laughing at her straits. His laughter was anything but kind, and his eyes were hard and unamused.

"Well, well, well. It seems our little hell cat heard our entire conversation." He said slowly, walking towards her but staying out of range of her claws.

"You better fucking believe I fucking heard you, you fucking bastard!" She said in a venomous tone, her eyes narrowed into slits as she attempted to pull her legs free while clawing at the band across her chest. "And if you think I'll go along with that damned plan and let you do your deranged tortures on my kittens then you better get a lobotomy because you're brain dead!" She screamed, finally managing to tear the band across her chest and rip her bleeding feet free. But alas, she still had the band across her stomach and her thighs so was unable to do more than half a lunge. But even then she managed to catch him by surprise and she managed to claw a deep gouge into his arm. Her reward was a viscous backhand, which sent her reeling back unto the table, where she blacked out momentarily. She felt her right eye swelling already from the hit.

"Unfortunately my dear, when you go into heat, you won't have a choice." The doctor said coldly, hardly even acknowledging the blood dripping down his arms or the tattered sleeve of his coat. He made a rough gesture towards Tarrant who raised his tranquilizing gun to his shoulder and took aim. With a snarl she sent her body forward, breaking the metal band over her stomach and simultaneously pulling her legs up and out of the thigh band. She continued her movement forward and tumbled off of the table. She twisted as she landed and continued forward, lunging for the doctor. She was caught in the shoulder by a dart, a second in her upper chest, and another in her thigh. She crumpled to the ground in a limp mass, her outstretched hand within two inches off the doctor's boot where she lay, twitching and snarling. The doctor walked towards her and stood above her. After a moment he kicked her roughly in the ribs, sending her across the room. She heard and felt a couple of her ribs crack on impact of the hit, and felt a third crack on impact of the ground. She groaned in pain and blacked out in combination of that and the tranqs.

And it seems she had been unconscious for half a day by this point, she could tell by how hungry she was. 133 hung her head and sighed in dejection. She was very sore after yesterday's incident. The whole right side of her face hurt, her ribs were bound but still hurt like a bitch. Her neck ached and she noticed that her ankles were bandaged, and looking up –slowly- she noted her wrists had been, but her struggles had ripped the bandages...and her skin. She growled and stared blankly at the wall. For the last several months she had been actually trying to cooperate with the doctor, finding it brought her less pain in the end. But now...that bastard! How dare he! She scowled and stared at the door. Her cooperation was _done_ now. Never again. She never forgot a slight, and she would never relent.

After several minutes she heard the echoes of his foot falls. Soon he reached the door, and opened it. She narrowed her eyes at the sudden bright light. He stood silhouetted in the doorway for several moments before he walked in and slowly walked towards her. She stopped his forward process with a low predatory growl. He smirked after a moment and turned to leave.

"I leave you here to heal for now my dear." The doctor started before visibly changing his mind. "In fact...no, I've a better idea." With that said he left, slamming the door behind him. She stared after him in confusion, trying to guess what he meant by his cryptic comment. Before long he returned with Tarrant. She snarled when she saw him but that was all she got out before yet another dart struck her in the neck.

"Ba...stardsss..." She managed to hiss out as her eyes grew heavy and her limbs weak.

When she woke up she found herself lying in a bed, really not much more than a cot and several old musty blankets, but a bed none-the-less. She sat up slowly, for once unhindered by any sort of chains. She was in a small room, no bigger than her previous cell. The walls were devoid of any sort of windows or coverings. The only thing in the room besides herself and the bed was a small table bolted to the floor, a small mirror above the table -covered by bars so she could not break it- and a door. The door was metal, seemed rather thick, and had several bars attached to the wall on all sides. On the ceiling was a simple light fixture, giving off a soft light which illuminated the room.

She noticed that her wrists were rebound, and that the bandages on her ankles and ribs had been changed. She was wearing a black tank top which reached down to a little past the tops of her hips, and a black skirt which reached to her lower thighs. Her hair had been brushed and surprisingly, she had been bathed. For the first time in over a year, she was clean.

She got up and wandered slowly to the mirror. She growled when she saw what shape she was in. Her ears were as long as her fore finger, her fangs at least a half an inch long, and her eyes now completely almond shaped and slit like a cat's. The entire right side of her face was bruised, and her right eye was swollen. Her shoulders both had half healed scratches atop them, and her neck was riddled with needle holes, as were her arms and legs. Her arms and legs were also covered in bruises.

She turned with a start when the door suddenly clicked and whirred as the bars retracted and the door opened slowly with a hiss. She saw it was at least four inches thick.

The doctor walked in, a tray of food in his left hand, and a sparking stick in his right. A stick she recognized intimately. It caused her to arch her back and hiss but retreat to the bed all the same with a halfhearted growl.

"Good morning to you too my dear." He said, placing the tray on the table. She snorted in contempt. "I gather you must be wondering why I've moved you here." She leveled him with a dark glare and snorted once again. He chuckled darkly and continued. "Well I can't very well leave you in that cell and expect you to develop properly. This will be your home for the next twelve weeks. In that time, although you'll be somewhat on the short side, you will be a fully developed woman, and taller then you are now. The process will be painful of course, but nothing good can be gained without a little bad. You understand." With that said he stood up and gestured at her food before leaving her -sputtering and growling- and locking the door once again behind him.

She instantly leapt to her feet and rammed her body into the door, only to bounce back and fall on her already sore butt. Snarling obscenities under her breath she glanced at the meal that had been brought, and looked it over slowly. It was very simple, a piece of bread, a slab of overcooked meat –from an indiscernible creature- a few pieces of raw lettuce, and a cup of metallic smelling water. She sniffed it all first of course, and took small nibbles and sips of everything –sitting back for a small while to see if it would make her sick- before her stomach could not take the scent anymore and she devoured it all in less than a minute, relishing in the first real food she'd seen in over two years. She was actually content for the time being, having an actual bed, and been fed actual food. But then she remembered who had given her that food and with a snarl she swiped at the tray, hurling it across the room with a clang.

"He's trying to soften me up!" She hissed to herself in fury. "I won't let him! I won't." She started pacing the room impatiently, like a caged lioness. She would periodically ram her shoulder into the unforgiving metal of the door; only to receive a bruised and throbbing shoulder for her troubles. Growling at how helpless she was she slammed her palms against the unyielding metal of the door –willing with every fiber of her being for any movement at all- and she received a terrible shock when a strange power flowed from her palms to the ends of her hair. Yelping in shock she backpedaled rapidly and tripped over her feet.

When she looked up she saw in astonishment that the place where her hands had been were now outlined plainly on the stark cold metal by a large smudge of black, which was smoldering slightly before her bewildered eyes.

After staring with wide eyes for several minutes she cautiously got to her unsteady feet and walked slowly to the door, her hair finally settling down among her shoulders; though still frizzy and messy from the electrical shock that had raced through her veins.

She warily reached out a claw and gingerly touched the scarred metal. It was cool to the touch. She slowly placed the full of her hand on the charred portion of the door and brushed her hand along it, finding to her delight that the charred portion was indented –though only slightly- from the rest of the door. With renewed vigor she placed her hands on the door once more, and reached within herself to once again release that power.


	3. Forced to Grow

She sighed as she laid spread eagle on her bed, her face dripping with sweat and her hair soaked. All her muscles were screaming in agony and her head was throbbing in a morbid counter-point to her muscles. All she had managed to do was exhaust herself. She had made absolutely no impact on the door since her initial blast. She was at a loss to what she had even done in the first place. Her arms ached from the strain, and she felt a dull ache in the pit of her stomach which she recognized vaguely as hunger. But even so the thought of food half nauseated her.

She turned her head and stared blankly at the door; to spent to even growl. Sighing again she flung her left arm over her eyes and fell asleep.

\---

She awoke all at once to the sound of the door being opened. She rolled off the bed and landed in a crouch, glaring at the door. When it opened fully, she saw that it was Tarrant, bearing a tray of food. She growled at the sight of him.

"I don't want it!" She snarled even while her stomach growled in protest. She scowled in shame when her duel responses caused him to smirk smugly at her. She darted forward and snatched the tray from his hands; returning to her bed before he could blink. He stared at her, blinking owlishly in surprise, and she resisted the urge to laugh in his face –with great difficulty mind you- as she stuffed the food in her mouth.

All the while she never took her eyes off of Tarrant, and she was inordinately pleased to see him flinch from the intensity of her burning red eyes. He shifted uncomfortably under her unwavering gaze and then scowled at her. She gulped the last of the meal down, and threw the tray so that it skidded across the bare stone floor and landed at his feet. When he did nothing more than stare at her with his insufferable scowl still on his face she growled.

"What?!" She growled. "I ate the damn food! Surely you did not expect for me to take the tray back to the kitchen or some such?" With a snort of disgust she turned her back to him and started examining her nails...er claws. "Well?" She asked him haughtily. She heard him mutter some curse words under his breath; though she heard them _quite_ clearly. She snorted "useless human scum." Under her breath; though just loud enough for him to hear her- in response

She heard him pick the tray up and tilted her head to the side; the tray flying right past her ear and impacting on the wall in front of her with a sickening crunch as the metal crumpled against the unforgiving stone wall.

She turned with a snarl and leapt at him, grabbing his shoulders and pinning him to the ground.

"Just _what_ would you have done if that tray _had_ hit me you imbecile? How would you have explained this to the 'good doctor'?" She asked, her voice dripping with scorn. He withered underneath her gaze before shoving her off him and running out the door; slamming and locking it behind him. Chuckling gleefully to herself she returned to her bed. On the way she caught her profile in the mirror. Turning to full face her visage she paused. She slowly moved to the mirror, and scrutinized her face fully and carefully.

Her eyes were slanted up at the corners, almond shaped, but still wide and almost innocent seeming, the eyes of the child she still was –even mutated as she was- but they were so dark a blue they were almost black now, and her pupils were slit like a cat's, and barely darker than the surrounding iris. Her ears looked as though they were as long as her middle finger now that she looked closer, roughly three inches long and they had started to curve on the underside, looking like a mockery of cat ears on the side of her head.

And apparently she'd be growing a tail as well soon.

She turned back to the mirror and opened her mouth as wide as she could. All her teeth were pointed slightly now, and all four of her canines were half an inch long. Her face itself was pale, unhealthily so, her nose small and pointed, and she had what she had heard described as a 'widow's peck' though her bangs completely obscured the upper half of her face as it was. She brushed her cheeks and noticed how high and prominent her cheekbones were.

She stepped back from the mirror a little so that when she lifted her tank top up the jagged scar that ran from her collar bone down to her navel was visible. She still remembered how she had gotten it, could still feel the burning agony rippling though her skin. She ran a finger lightly over the scar, wincing as she did. Whatever the doctor had done to her that day had left the scar still tender, even after close to seven years now.

Growling she pulled her shirt down with a sharp jerk -half ripping the fabric in the process- and turned away from the mirror. She then stalked across the room and came to a stop in front of the massive steel door. Running her fingers feather light over the door, her claws snagged on the charred portion she had rendered hours before.

Snorting she brought her left arm back and clenched a fist; then with all her strength slammed it forward into the detent. She heard several of her fingers crack slightly but paid them no heed as she repeated the action again and again.

She finally stopped when she knew for a certainty that her fingers were broken. She stared with morbid fascination at the blood oozing from the torn skin of her knuckles and at the blood dripping sticky trails down the door.

She started absentmindedly licking the blood from her fingers; ignoring the obscene shifting of the bones in her fingers and the pain that shot up her arms. She smirked to herself when she thought about how 'the doctor' would react. He wouldn't be pleased, that was for damn sure. She then noticed that she had been licking her hand the whole time, and had been swallowing the blood; and realized that her blood hadn't bothered her at all. Then she saw that her saliva had ceased the flow of blood in her hand.

She examined her hand and saw that she had broken each of her fingers in at least one place. Sighing she cradled her broken hand and leant forward to examine the door. Under the coat of blood she had left, there was no change that she could see. She snarled loudly in fury and then whimpered in dawning despair. What could she do?

It had been three week three days and seven hours since she had first been incarcerated in this dismal cell she now called home. Her hair hung limp and lank -she hadn't bathed since she got here- but she had months without bathing before so she didn't care at all about her hygienic state.

After all the chemicals injected in her, and due to some of her DNA structure being altered (so her traits would pass onto her offspring) it was almost impossible for her to contract any sort of disease, bacterial or viral.

Her eyes were raw and sore from her unexpected spout of tears three days prior. The last time she had shed any tears –except for her body's reaction to pain- was three years ago, she had thought those wells dried up. But obviously not. It had been a week since she'd been locked here, and she had been feeling entirely depressed since her failure to cause any damage to the door resulted in her broken hand. She had been almost obedient for the rest of that week, quite listless to be sure. The doctor had in fact commented on it.

He had told her that not only was her body growing and developing, so were her emotions and her hormones. She had severely unbalanced hormones for now, so would be due to severe mood swings. And considering how unbalanced she was to begin with it led for very violent and extreme outburst and sudden mood changes of dangerous degrees. She went from mauling the door, trying to break free to suddenly hiding under the bed and whimpering her despair.

Three days ago had been the start of her tears, and she had been unable to stem the flow of tears even now, three days later.

Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks damp and grooved by the tracks of her unceasing tears. Her hair was damp and her clothing rumpled; soaked with her tears and with the blood from her hand. The doctor had fixed her hand just five days ago. He had left her with her crippled hand for four days to teach her a lesson and cow her. If it had been any other circumstance the punishment would not have phased her but due to everything else, it was too much to handle. The procedure had been painful, as her bones had already set and were starting to heal causing him to have to re-break her hand. For the first time in many years, she screamed from the pain and passed out without any help from tranquilizers.

Now she was in her room, sitting on her cot the tears finally stopping their never ending flow. Sighing in relief she scrubbed the remaining dampness from her face with a scratchy wool blanket and stood up to examine her face in the mirror.

Her checks were hollow from grief, her sclera red from irritation of her salt tears. Her hair was damp and stuck to her face, and what wasn't hung lank around her face and shoulders. The hair which was cropped short stuck up in every direction from the wool blanket she had.

She had been gaining weight because although she hardly had the will to eat, she had not the energy to refuse. When she had voiced her concern about not been injected daily with the vitamins her body required, the doctor had told her that the food she was given contained all the additives she needed. So unless she wished to commit suicide without killing her captor first, she had no choice _but_ to eat.

She could still see her ribs but she did not look emancipated any more. Her ears were several centimeters larger, but did not seem to be growing quite as fast anymore. Her claws were sharper and strong (But still unable to penetrate the solid steel door) and her fangs were a cm longer and a bit wider and thicker. The rest of her teeth did not show much of a change, but were stronger.

But the biggest change was that her tailbone had (painfully) elongated and her tail had started growing in a week ago. It was now several inches long and still growing. It already had a thick layer of short black fur covering its length. Also her hips had grown slightly, and her breasts had started growing. She knew that in a little over two months' time she'd be done developing into a woman and the doctor would then give her to Tarrant for his pleasure.

She stared at the door where she had pummeled and tackled and somehow fried; but she had made no dent but for her massive fluke, a detent of but one centimeter. She had not been able to repeat what she had done that first day, no matter how hard she tried. All she had done was exhaust herself.

She glowered at the empty tray; what was left of dinner that night. She then looked at the grooves she had clawed into the wall next to the mirror; twenty-four lines –one for each day she'd been trapped in this cell.

She hissed and started ripping her bedding before snarling and throwing herself off her bed and prowling her floor space angrily, her stub of a tail lashing behind her in counterpoint to her fierce anger.

She was at a loss for what to do. She was free (somewhat) of bondage, but could do nothing but eat, sleep, and pace her cell for hours on end. The only way she could tell of the passing of time (besides her immaculate internal clock) was when her meals were brought to her. She couldn't escape, could do nothing but sit helplessly while her body sped though changes which would normally take years; and some changes which were not normal in any sense of the word.

If she had not been as strong as she was; as strong as many years of torture forced her to be, she would have broken down once again to cry bitter tears. But as it was she took a deep seething breath, let it out, and was calm.

Walking back to her cot, she fixed her bedding back up and made her bed. Once done she sat in the center of her covers, legs akimbo, and hands on her knees, palms up. And thus settled, she meditated.

\---

A month and a half had passed in a blur, starting her last two weeks of development. Her hips seemed fully developed, and her breasts still growing, and rather large in her opinion. She hated them. Her ears seemed to have stopped growing, now as long as her hand from palm to the end of her longest finger. Her fangs hadn't grown any more since she last checked, and her eyes had not changed from what she could see. She was several inches taller than she had been at the beginning of her changes, the forced growth of her bones in the last month an agony. She was now 4'7", still quite short, but taller than she had been.

Her tail was now down to the back of her knees.

"How long is this blasted thing supposed to get?!" She snarled to no one in particular. With a disgusted snarl she stalked over to her bed.

\---

Suddenly bolting out of her sleep and leaping from her bed in a single fluid moment she crouched on the floor, her ears perked up and she growled softly, wondering what had woken her so suddenly and abruptly. A moment later she was answered by an explosion; loud even muffled as it was by the walls of her cell. The strength of the explosion was enough to shake the walls of her cell and dust fell from the ceiling in little tufts and spurts.

She started to stand up when a second explosion (that she was awake for at least) knocked her off her feet. She stood up again once the shaking subsided and ran towards the door. She had noted how it trembled during the explosion. She tried to push it, and then shoved her weight against it but still it did not budge. Backing up she started ramming it; pummeling her shoulder into it –all her body weight pushed into the collision- but the door still refused to shift.

She gritted her teeth and put more effort into her endeavor. After what seemed like hours she was suddenly shocked when the door moved. In fact, the door not only moved, it opened all the way out; sending her entirely unprepared self sprawling ungracefully at the feet of whomever had opened the door.

With a groan he lifted her head and glowered briefly at the person -catching a glimpse of pale white skin, very long spiky dark green hair and black clothes- though her shaggy bangs obscured most of her vision- before she was on her feet again and running for all she was worth (which was quite fast needless to say) down the hall to the right.

She heard footsteps following behind her; three pair, running a little slower if not as fast as she was. One set was heavyset, and the other two were light; aside from recognizing that she ignored them all but completely, intent on her goal. Killing he who she must call 'master'.

She arrived at his lab after only a minute of running, despite the fact that it was on the other side of the whole complex from her cell.

As soon as she arrived she slipped inside and melded with the shadows. And just in time. As soon as she was hidden _he_ came rushing frantically into the room, his arms overflowing with files and Tarrant and Finster on his heels.

"What do you mean Exp. 132 has escaped? How could it?!" The doctor was ranting despairingly.

"What I said! He escaped with the intruders! The State Alchemists who broke in, they freed him! I don't know if he joined them, but he's gone!" Tarrant answered just as hysterically.

"Damn it all! Where is Exp. 133?" The doctor suddenly asked horrified. "Is it still in it's cell?" He continued. Tarrant shrugged worriedly.

"She can't escape sir...the door..." Tarrant tried to assure the doctor.

"Sir! Exp. 133! Her cell! She's escaped!" Carl said frantically, wringing his hands in terror as he burst into the room. The doctor and Tarrant turned and stared in panic at the man. Finster started wailing and making a general nuisance of himself.

"She can't have!" Tarrant said angrily in disbelief.

"The Cell is empty and the door is open!" Carl said in woe.

"You lie!" Tarrant raged, grabbing Carl's collar.

"Now, now. Don't take your rage out on the messenger Tarrant." She cooed in a deathly sweet voice, emerging from the shadows with a feral smirk on her face, baring her fangs. The four men screamed in terror once they saw her. She smirked wider baring all her sharp teeth. "Well hello, I am _so_ very happy to see you as well." She said saccharine voice. She could only laugh darkly when the doctor suddenly dropped the files and started running –knowing she could easily catch him after she took care of his lackeys- and Carl and Tarrant pulled guns –tranquilizer guns at that!- on her.

Finster was against the wall whimpering.

"You think those paltry things can stop _me_? Not anymore. Not now." She said, scowling at the men, and especially at the door the doctor had fled though. "Not after what you made me. This monster that I've become; and your death." She ended in a hate filled feral snarl.

With a lunge she darted to the side and came up behind Finster and with a growl she grabbed his head and snapped his neck with a twist of her wrists; and threw his now limp body at Tarrant. Tarrant made a strangle sort of whimper in the back of his throat and dropped the now limp body of his co-worker.

She growled a dark laugh and ran towards Carl. He shot his gun at her but she twisted to the side and dodged the dart with ease.

Within seconds she had bowled Carl over and she broke his neck effortlessly. She kept going forward with momentum and paused, her face inches from Tarrant (if only because she was still quite short.) and her eyes blazing.

She eyed him up and down with open disdain and disgust. "And you...you repulsive human pig. You think you can mate me? You think that you can _handle_ me? You are a disgusting waste of oxygen and the 5 seconds it took to conceive you." She sneered with contempt.

"You are just a stupid beast, a feral cat fit only to mate, conceive and then be shot like the rabid bitch you are! And besides, in 2-3 weeks you won't have a choice in who you mate you stupid bitch!" Tarrant laughed maliciously.

"Oh, I have a great deal of choices. All I have to do is kill you...and kill every other human male I come upon!" She snarled her eyes wide in unholy glee and her pupils needle thin.

He stared at her in horror, his mouth agape.

"You can't kill me you stupid child!" He yelled indignantly. "You need me. Without those vitamins and drugs your body has become addicted to supplied to you daily, you'll die within a week!" He continued. She paused for a moment, and then narrowed her eyes once again.

"I don't care, I have no reason to live, save destroy you and then 'master'. Once you are dead my goal will be complete and I can die; fulfilled." She said calmly, seriously. Tarrant paled and backed up a step. That was his final move.

She leapt at him and barreled him over. She settled all of her weight on his chest and took a moment to take pleasure in the look of utter horror and the knowledge he was going to die that filled he eyes. And when she caught a scent telling her he had soiled himself she laughed, and with a hiss of breath she ripped his throat open with her fangs, mangling his neck.

"Well, well, well...so the little kitty's bite _is_ as bad as her meow." A dangerously saccharine voice spoke out from the shadows.


	4. How not to make friends

She turned abruptly at the sound of the voice, her hair standing on end and all her teeth bared in a savage snarl. Her tail was lashing viciously behind her and her eyes were narrowed in anger and intense hate. She had not even felt the woman's presence until she had spoken.

That simply was not acceptable. And although she did not show an iota of it; she was shocked and surprised. If she was capable of such an emotion anymore; she would have been afraid as well.

She was still crouched over the body of Tarrant-now quite dead although his body had not yet started to cool- and there was still blood dripping down her chin and her chest and torn shirt were covered in his blood and her she did not bother to wipe any of it away as she hunched her shoulders possessively over her kill.

What she saw were three persons. Three people she had not even felt come up behind her. And that alone pissed her of entirely. She glowered at the trio and quickly sized them up to discover their weakness' and reason for being there considering none of them belonged here. That much apparent from within the first split second of looking at them.

Not a single one of them was a doctor or scientist. They had no reason to be here. Who were they? 'They' were two 'men' and a woman. 'They' were dressed in black, and had a dark...sadistic and merciless air about them, and they looked stronger and somehow more knowledgeable then any other men she had seen in her life before. And...she had hardly ever seen much women, period, in her life -and the few she had seen were cruel heartless bitches- so that alone had her hackles up.

The woman had been the one to speak and she stood in the middle of the trio. Thus, 113 focused on her first. Because she was apparently the leader, or leastwise since she had spoken to her then she should be the first analyzed.

What she saw was a tall slim woman with long thick black hair artfully arranged about herself. Her hair was parted more to the left of the center, and it fell artfully over her left eye while the rest hung down past her hips except for a thick chunk she left hanging over her right shoulder. She had very pale skin -almost the same shade as 133's own- and dark violet eyes, which were filled with malicious glee. She held herself with a haughty grace and there was a sadistic smirk on her face as she stared down condescendingly at her. That pissed 133 off almost more then she could stand. She was also taller than 133, by a whole head.

How dare she look at me in that manner? Who does that bitch think she is? 133 thought with a savage snarl, clenching her claws angrily into the bulk of the still warm meat beneath her; what used to be a man. Her claws broke the skin easily and a fresh wash of blood flowed over her pale and delicate seeming hands. She ignored it completely as insignificant. Besides, she enjoyed the feeling of blood over her bare skin; it soothed her.

The woman was wearing a tight very dark green -almost black- dress which covered her from her breasts down to past her knees. There was a cut in the top between her breast and showing a great deal of cleavage if not the actual breast. 133 was struck by how unpractical that outfit seemed to her. Seemed to hinder the woman's movement more than anything 133 would ever wear. Under the dress the woman wore high topped black boots underneath the dress and long black gloves which only covered the top of her hands and fingers -leaving the palm and bottom of her fingers bare- and went to the top of her dress. Running along the outside of her gloves was a strange red marking, it started as a circle near the top of the glove, and ended as a circle on the back of her hands.

On the woman's chest -right below the middle of her collar bones- was a very strange red symbol. She narrowed her eyes and saw it to be a winged serpent biting its own tail; wrapped around a strange configuration of six triangles.

On the left of the woman was an incredibly obese man, bald with beady childish eye. He had a deranged cast to his chubby almost babyish features and his ravenous hunger rolled off of him in very viable waves.

He was bigger than the woman and the other 'male' by a fair amount, almost eclipsing them by his bulk, for all that he was quite short, just about her height in fact, although his girth was almost inhuman. He wore a black sleeveless body suit and sturdy black boots which came up to his considerable calves. The same red markings on the woman's gloves were on his arms. They started as circles behind his ears and ran along the outside to the front of his shoulders where there was another pair of circles and then ran down the length of his arms and down to the black wrappings around his wrists, ending as down-pointing triangles.

When he started panting and slobbering obscenely she saw his tongue and she saw the same marking as on the woman's chest on his tongue.

She was disgusted and disturbed by him and the fact that he apparently was quite hungry and looked as though he wished to eat her; but refused to allow even her tail to telegraph that despite the fact that it was doubtful they could read her through her tail. She was not going to take that chance or give them the satisfaction of knowing she was upset. She turned her attention to the last of the trio while only allowing her tail to display her anger.

The last one was the most confusing, because while 'it' was quite obviously male; there was something overtly feminine about him as well; although she could not precisely place what it was about him that made her feel that.

He was shorter than the woman by about half a head. In fact he was only about a half head taller than she herself. But despite that, he did not seem the least bit weak or delicate. He was very muscular and toned although the muscles were not overdeveloped or bulky in the least. From what she could tell, he had no body fat upon him, it was all muscle.

He had very long spiky dark green hair which fell around him making him look like plant. But also it somehow suited him. Some thick strands fell in front of his face, shadowing the planes of his pale visage and lending an air of mysterious ferocity. The rest spiked down to his waist and was rather messy without being terribly out of hand.

He had dark violet eyes, the same shade as the woman's, which held nothing but malice and feral enjoyment of other's pain. He had a cruel smirk on his slightly feminine face and she realized that it was the shape of his face and eyes which led to the overall feeling of femininity about him; but upon closer inspection it was actually a more feline-like cast than anything else and the inherent grace all cats were blessed with hung about him in an almost tangible aura.

He had a sneer on his face similar to that of the woman's, although his was much colder and held much more disdain. Her eye twitched in anger just looking at him and she stiffened her body and tightened her fists.

His clothing was a very dark purple -almost black- and consisted of a tight top, high necked and sleeveless which came down to just below his breast bone; leaving the rest of his midriff, abs and abdomen all the way down to his hips bare. Over his long well-muscled legs her wore a very odd piece of clothing, it was what almost appeared to be a short high cut skirt which was cut all the way up the leg and left the sides of his thigh bare except for the equally short pair of shorts which were just an inch shorter than the skirt covering which came to the down to mid-thigh. Over the palms of his hands and his wrists up to mid forearm were covered in matching purple-black coverings and on his feet were similar in fashion and wrapped around the body of his feet leaving his toes and heels bare and came up to the base of his calves.

His winged serpent marking was on his left thigh right below the base of his shorts.

The woman had her arms crossed loosely over her chest, the obese one was slouching and was sucking hungrily on a finger. The last one had his hands on his hips and was looking disdainfully down at her. But what was strangest about them all...was that the seemed almost...non-human. But how could that be possible?

That was when she actually took a closer look at their eyes themselves, and realized that both the woman and the green-haired man had slit pupils. Like hers. That startled her quite a bit, but calmed her as well. After all, it was humans she hated unutterably, and if they were not humans; then perhaps they would be of use to her. In destroying the human race.

It took her less time than it took to breathe and out twice to take all this in and she sat back on her heels thoughtfully after she had finished examining them. And while she had been taking in every detail of their physical appearance; they were doing the same to her.

She knew she looked like nothing more than a savage unrelenting beast; and she liked it that way. Her hair was unkempt and knotted about her face and her face and hands and chest were covered with blood. Her eyes were glowing blood-red with rage, and were wild, piercing and angry.

She knew she looked beaten and starved as well; although she had filled out a substantially over the last several weeks. Even so, her bones still stuck out slightly and all her ribs were visible. Her face was no longer gaunt however and of course due to the 'doctor's' meddling she had the fully developed feminine shape with the addition of her overly large cat-like ears and tail.

She stared at them silently for several seconds before wiping her mouth and chin with the back of her arm and then slowly rose to her feet while licking the back of her arm clean slowly, her eyes darting continuously over each person.

She narrowed her eyes in contemplation and her tail was slowly lashing out behind her in sharp jerky motions.

Seeing as they seemed disinclined to speak to her she decided to take the initiative rather than wait them out. She had no doubt that she could, but she'd rather not waste any more time, she had a man to kill.

"You...three." She started slowly, staring intently at the three of them before continuing just as slowly. "Are...not human...are you." She said, making it a statement, not a question. She knew they were not humans. their eyes belayed that. Well, they also smelled non-human too. And their unnatural stillness. A lot gave them away. But their eyes especially.

The woman and the green haired man looked surprised at her comment but then the woman laughed; a seductive and dark sound. 133 felt her hackles rise again at the sound of her voice.

"You are very perceptive child." The woman laughed. 133 resisted the urge to snarl; but only just. She turned her cold eyes to gaze steadily at the woman; waiting for her response.

"And you are correct in you assumption as well." The woman finally continued and 133 slowly outwardly relaxed her body while awaiting the rest of the woman's explanation.

"We are beings called Homunculi. I am Lust and my companions are Gluttony and Envy." The woman finished, her tone soft and somehow seductive while she stared at her; she gestured at the fat man first, and then the thin effeminate and feline-esque man. She then stared silently and slightly condescendingly down at her, obviously awaiting a reaction. Most likely one of confusion. 133 would not give her the satisfaction. She knew what a Homunculi was. Granted, she had never seen one, and had previously doubted the truth of their existence. But she did know what they supposedly were.

"I did not think a successful Homunculus had ever been created." She commented drily. It was also forbidden. But then again so was creating Chimera; especially human-chimera. So she was not too surprised.

As all three beings looked at her, a little incredulous that she was not surprised; and she did not even attempt to hide the smile of sadistic amusement which formed on her face. She enjoyed the loop she had thrown them for. She sketched a sarcastic bow -making it as insulting as she possibly could- and stood once again.

"Never in my short cursed existence had I thought I would meet once such as your kind mistress...Lust." 133 said in a slow and careful tone. She may not really respect these three, but they were at least not human. So she would try her best to not antagonize them. Not her forte.

She saw what she could tell was amusement on Lust's face, but it was strangely lacking in malice. Envy looked annoyed. Or impatient. She didn't care. The immensely fat one which only looked hungry; which was incredibly fitting as the woman had called him Gluttony; but she ignored them completely as she knelt down over Tarrant's mutilated body. She saw him as nothing more than a pile of meat. She tore a hunk of his thick shoulder muscle off and stuffed in her mouth. She ate it absently as she tore through all his many pockets.

She tore one of the pockets themselves off -one of the bigger ones- and she stuffed all the vials, capsules, bottles and syringes he had had in his pockets into the pocket. She folded it over into a packet and ripped a strip off of his now almost entirely red and pink lab coat to tie the packet securely closed. She ripped a longer strip and tied it securely around her waist over her slightly baggy and filthy tank top. Once done she simply dropped the packet into her tank top and smiled smugly when the fabric she had wrapped around her waist held.

She turned her head to look at the multitude of files the 'doctor' had dropped and she spied one which had the words 'Experiment #133' written on it in bold letters. She immediately snatched it with her long claws, nearly tearing the cover as she did so. And as she was stuffing that down her shirt she happened to glance upwards at the three Homunculi.

Gluttony was staring at the bodies strewn about her with very obvious hunger and she heard his stomach growl very loudly and a look of child-like woe appeared on his round face.

Lust looked caught between amused and disgusted at her display but she had yet to actually say anything else and her arms were crossed over her buxom breasts. She did however arch a fine eyebrow and grimacing in distaste. Kemairia realized that she had blood dripping down her chin from when she had eaten a portion of Tarrant's body. But honestly she could not care less what the woman thought of her. She was what she was and nothing was going to change that.

But the man, Envy, on the other hand had a very strange look in his eye. It was something she could not place for a moment because it looked somehow familiar, but at the same time so different than anything she had ever seen before. That was when she realized it was the same way that Tarrant had looked at her sometimes. Lust. But the way Tarrant had given her that look had disgusted her and pissed her off. The way Envy did, it made her blood boil and she felt strange. She felt herself flushing to her complete mortification.

She immediately forced a blank look upon her face and stood up once again, a semblance of calm upon her face once again.

"And as it stands...since I now know for a certainty that the three of you are not that despicable race...I will not have to kill you. Now, I must leave for there is a man I must kill before I can be at peace and allow this atrocious and twisted body to wither and die." She said with finality, her voice cold and flat without any sort of emphasis. "And Gluttony is free to take care of this mess if he wishes." She added just as flatly.

With that -without even wasting a single moment to see their reaction; as she had absolutely no care about such things- she turned deftly on her feet and took off like a shot out the door and started sprinting headlong down the hall.

She had a man to kill after all.


	5. Disrupted hunt

133 was dimly aware of the fact that she was being followed but paid hardly any heed to the pursuing Homunculi. She had more important things on her mind. She had to find the Doctor before the wretch escaped.

She ran full speed along the corridors; following the scent of the deranged human she hunted. His scent was thick in the air and she wrinkled her nose in disgust even as she followed its trace. She knew that once she ripped the man to shreds she never need worry herself with his scent ever again. Especially since she was fully prepared to let her body cease its incessant hold on her pathetic half-life once he was dead.

She ran with the loping, ground devouring stride her body had been designed for and her arms pumped at her sides; and her tail she was discovering aided her balance sublimely.

She spared an impatient moment to tune into the sound of the pursuers and realized that there was only one being following her. She was somewhat surprised over that development and spared a quick glance over her shoulder without breaking her stride in the least.

It was Envy. She was not surprised, all told -considering his reaction in the other room- and she turned her attention back to her task, ignoring Envy insouciantly; he was of little consequence to her as of the moment, as long as he did not attempt to hinder her. If he did, she would have no qualms against ripping him to pieces; even if he were not human, and therefore no enemy of her's.

She would allow nothing to stop her. She growled and returned her attention resolutely to following the scent trail. It was stronger now, more recent. She noticed absently that the sound of Envy's passage was closer. He was gaining. What was his intention? She had no idea. And she did not care, but even so her hackles were up and her tail started lashing in her unease.

She would rather not have to waste her time fighting him. She had no doubt that she could defeat him –even with him being an inhuman creature; and thus much stronger then Tarrant or any of the other lackeys- but she knew her body's limits and without all the drugs she was dependent on she would wilt and lose consciousness relatively soon.

She followed the twisting and intricate passages easily; not in the least nervous that she would get lost. Her photographic memory would see to that should she decide to leave.

Because she had deemed Envy as insignificant she had tuned out the sound of his pursuing steps; much louder and heavier than her own, but still incredibly quiet in comparison to that of any human. But she had still had a small -minuscule though it was- part of her attention focused in on him, so when the sound of his steps abruptly ceased; her focus on the Doctor's trail snapped. She had been so entirely focused on the scent she tracked that when her attention shifted it left her unbalanced and confused, so her reaction time was vastly encumbered. Her head snapped up to see Envy standing in the corridor before her.

She did not even spare a moment to try and figure out how he had possibly gotten there ahead of her; she let go of her body and let her muscles react. She kept running straight towards him –dimly registering his look of confusion with perverse pride- and when she was a meter away from him she leapt into the air, twisting her body into a ball to increase her momentum and when she reached the apex of her jump –almost a meter above the shocked Homunculus' head- she twisted her body around and straightened back out. She hit the ground running; several feet behind Envy, and she kept running, her pace only slightly dampened by the sudden acrobatics, but not much and she soon accelerated back to her top speed.

Now she took the time the try and decipher how Envy had accomplished such a feat, but she was only a little curious. The main focus of her attention was once again the Doctor's scent. If she lost it because of Envy's interference, she would have no qualms against tearing him limb from limb.

She heard a muffled curse from behind her –although she could easily make out the words clearly due to her heightened hearing- but ignored it. She was quite pleased however, to have gotten the upper hand and showing that Homunculus that she was not so easily captured.

It added an intense thrill to her hunt; because while she hunted the doctor, Envy hunted her. She grinned ferally in anticipation and she risked a swift glance over her shoulder. He had begun to pursue her once again, and was only several meters behind her. Her eyes narrowed and she snarled in defiance.

She would not allow him to deter her under any circumstances. She _would_ kill that Doctor. It was her only reason to live. The only reason she was still willing to exist.

The Doctor's scent was 'thicker' now. Weighing heavier on the air. She was getting quite close to him now indeed. But Envy was closing in on her as well. She bore her teeth in rage and impatience and spared a quick glance over her shoulder.

He was gone.

Her eyes widened and she snapped her head back around to look before her; and as she suspected, there he stood.

Her brow wrinkled as she tried to figure out –once again- how he had managed such a feat; but she had little time for philosophical thought, she was still running full tilt towards him, and it did not look as though he would make way for her. She started to lean her weight cautiously backwards, and bunched her muscles as if she were preparing to leap over him once again.

She saw him brace himself; obviously falling for her feint and she flashed him a wide grin of unholy glee as she spun to the right counter-clockwise. The moment she faced forward again she continued her run down the hall, her momentum not slowed in the least.

She looked over her shoulder at his receding form, and saw him glowering at her with the blackest expression she had ever seen. She began to laugh; the sound startling her immensely as she had not made such a sound in nigh on a decade. Admittedly the sound was incredibly bloodthirsty with sardonic overtones, but it was a laugh nevertheless.

He had begun his chase once again, but this time he seemed content to simply follow her. She was still watching him over her shoulder, not in the least concerned with the fact that she was running so very fast without watching where she was going.

But something in his expression changed; and she did not waste a moment to try and interpret it, so fast she snapped her head about. Her eyes widened and she bit back a rather vivid swear. She was only a meter from a 90° turn to the right. Not nearly enough time to turn; not at her break neck speed. And if she hit the wall, that is exactly what would happen.

She wrinkled her lips back in a snarl and angled her body just so. She then jumped at the wall, landing feet first at just such an angle and she allowed her momentum and centrifugal force to adhere her to the wall as she ran along it around the corner before jumping back to the floor with a sigh of relief and continuing her way down the corridor.

She heard a sound of what might be interpreted as a grudging admiration and she grinned to herself.

She suddenly lost her footing and lurched several steps to the left, banging her shoulder into the wall with a resounding thud before stumbling forward and almost falling on her face. She continued forward in halting steps and then did fall to her knees. She suddenly started gasping and coughing and found it hard to breathe, there was a large painful stitch in her side which extended the length of her ribcage, and she fell forward onto her hands, her head hanging. She realized she had pushed herself much too far, and she had overtaxed herself much too much. And she was so very close as well.

She closed her eyes tightly while desperately trying to slow her ragged breathing and she took a quick though thorough inventory of her body. She came to the redundant conclusion that she was dying, but that she was not finished yet. She had enough left in her to finish what she needed doing. She smiled bitterly. She simply needed to gather her strength and then she would have him. The worm was most probably cowering in a corner anyways.

But in the course of her musings she had completely forgotten about Envy; that is until she heard his slow, heavy, and foreboding footsteps walking ominously up behind her.


	6. Catching a predator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter consists of assault, molestation of a minor, and rape of a minor.

133 was incensed that she had allowed her weakness to get the better of her and ground her teeth so hard that her molars almost cracked as she tried valiantly to leaver herself to her feet, but her traitorous arms failed her and she collapsed onto the cold stone floor. She was lying on her stomach, her arms pinned beneath her, and her legs sprawled behind. Her tail was limp between her legs. What little breath left in her chest had left her when she collapsed and the scene before her eyes swam in a disconcerting manner and she suddenly felt as if the floor beneath her was rocking. If she had actually had any substance in her stomach she would have purged her body of it then.

The footsteps were getting closer now, slowly and tauntingly. She heard a very sadistic chuckle and her eyes narrowed. She inhaled shallowly and closed her eyes tightly before snapping them back open. The swimming motion before her eyes was gone, and she turned her head to glower at the slowly approaching Homunculus.  He had a very sadistic and icy smirk on her face. She matched it with the iciest glare she could manage, pouring all her hate and loathing into the expression. She may not hate him personally, but she was less than pleased with the situation.

But her actions simply served to amuse him and he began to laugh softly; an eerie, inhuman sound which caused the fur on her tail and the back of her neck to stand on end.

"Aw, what happened? Did the little kitty get tired? And I was having so much fun..." Envy complained in a mock sympathetic tone, his eyes belaying his words and his cruel intent. She pulled her lips back in a ferocious snarl, her fangs bared. She tried once again to push herself up, but her pinned arms would not even move.

She struggled for a small while and then stopped, out of breath again. Her limbs simply refused to hold her weight, slight though it was. She could not believe how traitorous her body was being, the 'Doctor' was not far away now. She was almost there! But small tremors racked her slight frame and her limbs twitched periodically in random patterns.

At his gleeful chuckle she turned to spit at him. "Fuck you.  Seriously, if you are so bored go fuck yourself. Don’t you have anything better to be doing? You think you are better than me?” She snarled at him, her eyes flashing as she finally manages to harness her rage; and she pushed herself back up to her hands and knees. But she was not done yet; not aware of what dangerous ground she was treading on, and not seeing Envy's eerily calm visage, she continued.  “You are just a pathetic experiment, subhuman.”

That was when she turned her head to look at him. Far too late she realized that she had perhaps gone just a little too far. She did not care if she had hurt the fucker's feelings, but he was furious, and she was much too weak to try and fend him off right now. She needed to get away and inject herself. But that itself did not seem very likely any longer.

His aura was pulsing with hate/rage/insanity, his eyes were darker than they had been, his face could have been carved of ice. He was standing still as a statue, staring at her. But 133 was never one to back down, and though she realized deep down that she was signing her death warrant, she did not even try to bite down the next words which flew from her pale lips.

"Whatever is the matter? Oh....did I hit a nerve?" She spoke condescendingly, a cruel smile forming across her thin face. Envy's reaction was instantaneous. He snapped. Before she even had a chance to blink he was in front of her and had kicked her in the stomach. She flew back and hit the wall heavily, her breath leaving in a rush and her eyes widening. Gravity did not even have a chance to pull her to the floor before his large hand was wrapped about her throat, pinning her against the wall. He started punching her viciously with his free hand, over and over and over again. His eyes had lost coherent thought.

But throughout the brutal onslaught 133 did not even make a single sound. Not a gasp, not a plea, not a sob or even the slightest whimper. She was well used to pain. Once his hand went about her throat she closed her eyes and recalled her mind from her body, curling up in the back of her mind until her attacker was either finished, or left an opening. Her breathing was erratic and her body jerked and convulsed with the punches, but her mind was calm and she did not feel the pain.

He seemed to favor punching her in the gut, and she noted with a sort of detachment that she had begun to cough up blood, but she hardly saw it as a problem. She was dead soon anyways. He was hitting her hard and fast, but for some reason had not yet broken any of her bones. Small favors. But then again, that may have simply been for the fact that her bones were not any longer simply bone, they were infused with adamantine. She was very doubtful that he would be able to break her that easily.

After a small while she noticed that the intensity and the consistency of hits she was receiving was decreasing. She slowly opened her eyes and stared up to the furious -but much calmer- purple eyes of the Homunculus who still held her in a bruising grip. He was scowling, his eyes narrowed. She smirked at him with perverse pride which made his grip tighten on her throat. She smirked wider, and then abruptly brought her hands up; the left to slice across his face and the right to dig into his wrist. He dropped her as if she were suddenly burning him, and stepped back, evading her attack.

She fell heavily onto her butt, and her right hand continued the halted motion, massaging her abused throat now as her left hand fell limply into her lap. "I am so sorry, did you perhaps wish to hear me scream? Beg perchance?" She taunted with a smirk.

"Oh, I'll make you beg alright..." Envy promised her as he suddenly knelt down before her. Her eyes widened slightly, not understanding the insinuation, but not liking his sudden closeness, and the intensity in his eyes. She leaned back slightly until her back pressed up against the cold unyielding stone wall behind her, and she narrowed her eyes in a threatening manner.

"Oh yes, I will make you  _beg_." Envy repeated softly, his voice low and somehow more dangerous than ever; his eyes gleaming with that same look as before, the way Tarrant had looked at her. She felt her breath hitch in her chest and she tried to bolt to her feet. No way in Hell was she going to allow this thing to touch her. Ever. The fact that his voice sent sparks like electricity down her spine and made heat pool oddly in her belly didn’t matter. The fact that looking at his feral features made her light headed was preposterous. He was not worthy of her. He simply laughed, making no move towards her, and she grasped that it was because he had already known what she had just realized as her legs refused to hold her, and she fell back to the floor before she had risen more than an inch.

Her hackles raised and she curled her lip back in a feral snarl, her inch long fangs bared and her eyes narrowed. She was not pleased with this situation, and even less pleased with how little regard he was holding for her. She curled her seemingly delicate hands into fists and was about to lunge at the man when she was suddenly slammed back against the wall, and before she could react his mouth slammed hungrily down upon her own.

Her eyes were wide and she froze in shock for a moment, her mind having trouble processing what had just happened. The next moment she reacted. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him with all her waning strength, and managed to push him away several inches. She opened her mouth to scream obscenities when his mouth crashed back down on hers again, and he took advantage of her open mouth to invade her with his tongue, one hand rising to grip her hair painfully and the other to begin running down her body. She felt violated, disgusting, and she did not like it at all. Which was a total lie because the feel of him over her, threating her, made her feel more alive than she ever had before. Being dominated was something she was used to, physical domination had been a regular affair for her, but this was so different. But she refused to accept that pleasure, not even the fact that he was not human would stop her from stopping him.

She bit down on his tongue, but the taste of blood in her mouth distracted her now and her eyes glazed over. Heat began to pool deeper than her belly, and she felt flushed and a little dazed. And also, considering the way Envy had moaned, he liked to be bitten. 133’s mind was hazy and she stopped struggling for a moment; he took advantage of her brief respite of movement and moved in so quickly that before she quite knew what had happened he had lifted her up into his lap with her legs straddling his hips; her body crushed between his hard chest and the wall, and one arm crushing her to him and the other still gripped tightly in her hair.

He tilted her head to the side to deepen the kiss and she suddenly realized that she could not breathe. That didn’t seem to matter at the moment; she had never felt pleasure before, not in years and years. It was not something she was prepared for, and her resistances were crumbling. She relaxed against Envy, her eyes drifted shut. She felt something between her legs, something hard. Without thinking she ground her hips against his and her low moan mingled with his growl. It had felt so good, she did it again. Envy’s hand fell from her low back to grab her ass, holding her to him as he ground his hips up against her, harder than she had. Even through her closed eyelids she saw sparks of lights, she arched her back with a gasp, and her body trembled.

The good thing was it caused Envy to finally pull away from her mouth and she began to gasp for breath and her sense began to return. She could hardly believe what she was doing, she was preparing to rut with this man, this Homunculi! And she had not the time to waste, the ‘Doctor’ could be getting away by now, and beside that fact, she was still only 13. She may not know much of the outside world, but she still knew that that was taboo for some reason. Which made Envy a pervert. And even if that didn’t bother her (which, admittedly it did not) he was still taking advantage of her weakness. And that was unforgivable. Although she had been blessedly without anger for the last few minutes, the moment she had a chance to think it all came rushing back, like the tide to shore, and she was angrier than before, perhaps un-rationally so. It was compounded by the fact that she had actually been enjoying herself. So she lashed out at the Homunculi which she was still straddling.

She snarled up at him as she pulled back as far from him as she could. "You!" She snarled, snapping her fangs near his face before continuing. “I was locked up in this facility since I was too young to know anything about the world, but I know enough to know you are taken advantage of my weakness; and I refuse to be used! So get your grubby hands off of me!” She growled, trying to pull away. Envy looked annoyed and then smirked and arched into her again, grinding slowly against the apex of her thighs. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she bit back a moan with every ounce of her strength. Obviously trying to reason with him was not going anywhere.

“You’re as bad as a human!” She gasped, trying to regain her anger. She would have continued but she was backhanded then, so hard that her vision went black and her head cracked against the wall so hard she saw stars and nearly blacked out entirely.

She let out an involuntary gasp at the pain which shot through her head, but she quickly erected a barrier in her mind to block the pain. Her eyes had closed unconsciously, but when she felt rough hands on her breasts, tugging at her shirt, they shot open again and she lunged forward to try to gouge out his eyes. Her wrists were caught in a bone bruising grip and her arms crushed against the wall. She snarled and tried to lunge at him but because of how her arms were trapped she could not move more than an inch or two away from the cold concrete wall.

Suddenly both of her wrists were caught in his left hand and he raised them above her head and pinned them to the wall. She was startled by the sudden move but before she could react further she was backhanded once again and as her skull impacted against the wall behind her everything went dim. She could no longer fight as he ripped the shirt from her torso and one of his hands grabbed her breast cruelly. She gave a weak moan which seemed only to spur the man on. She hissed in pain as she tried to move and her head gave a sharp twinge. She lifted her arms and it felt as though she were moving though water. She was enraged that she was so weak, she curled her fingers into claws and went for his eyes; she never saw the hit that caused her to black out completely.


	7. Recovered

The first thing she realized was that everything was black, an endless nothingness. The only thing she felt was nothingness. She could not even feel her body, she was completely detached from her very essence, and all she knew was darkness. She could not hear anything; it was as if she floated in an endless black void, surrounded in absolute nothingness. She realized that this was probably what death was, and decided that she would probably go quite mad.  But then she focused on the noise that she could suddenly hear; the only sound she heard was the relentless pounding of blood in her ears; a sound which blocked out any other noise.  But slowly the sound of her blood faded, only to be replaced by her ragged, uneven breaths. Each breath was met with a burning pain in her chest, her lungs struggling with the effort. She was still in darkness, and she could not move; her body felt leaden, her eyelids glued shut. But slowly, ever so slowly, it became easier to breath, easier to live. With a sudden searing gasp which caused her to cough up blood, she sat up. Her eyes flew open.

She was suddenly assuaged with pain and she doubled over her legs with a groan, her eyes screwed shut in agony. Her head felt as if it had been split in two, her chest was afire, and she was bruised and beaten all over. But by far the majority of her pain was settled between her thighs, thighs which were covered in now drying blood which she could smell all too clearly. She suddenly remembered all that had happened. She had blacked out when Envy assaulted her...but obviously that had not been enough for him. He had raped her. She would kill him. A low feral growl rumbled in her chest and hissed out between clenched teeth. 

But then she opened her eyes again, ever so slowly, as she was struck with a second revelation. She had been at least 2/3rds dead when Envy had come upon her; that was the only reason he had been given the upper hand. So how in the seven rings of Hell was she still breathing? How was she conscious? She lifted her head and straightened her spine; her legs sprawled to either side although she slowly drew her knees together, ignoring the pain. She saw a woman sitting across the hall from her -within easy reach of her arms- watching her calmly and intently with unreadable pink eyes. 133 stared silently at the woman, her blood red eyes slowly taking in her appearance. She could not place the woman at first, and then she realized that it was Lust.

She was very angry that the woman was there, watching her in her weakness and she growled again, her eyes flashing and ignoring the sharp pain between her thighs she pulled herself to a crouch, her hands curled into fists. As she moved Lust lifted an eyebrow in evident amusement. That was when 133 realized what should have been obvious when she saw several empty syringes on the floor beside the woman.

"I would have cleaned you off too, but I figured you had been violated enough for one day," Lust said, breaking the silence. She sounded amused. 133 blinked slowly and took a deep breath and slowly sat back down. She took a moment to move her attention from Lust’s face and noted that her manicured fingers were holding a manila folder. 133 inhaled sharply and started patting down her chest and looked into her shirt, and saw that her packet had been removed.

"Your name is, or rather was, Kew-Mei Chang. Do you recognize it?" Lust asked with a small tilt of her head, her eyes staring unblinkingly at 133. 133 scooted back away from Lust to put her back against the wall and push herself to her feet. Lust’s words had not really registered what Lust had asked, but when the words did catch her attention retroactively she collapsed back to the floor. 

"My…name?” She asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion. Her name…she had a name? Of course she did…she was human once, right? “Kew-Mei?” She muttered to herself. The name did not seem to fit herself; she did not remember it. But it was her’s. “Is it…a good name?” She asked Lust curiously, meeting her slanted eyes squarely. She was feeling strangely calm right now. More than when she had been facing Envy. More than she had in years. She could feel her rage roiling just below the surface, her stomach was clenched and her fingers were twitching, but her mind was clear, her breathing slow.

“Well, I think ‘Kitty’ would suit you better, but yes, Kew-Mei is a…’good name’. It is Xingese. Chang is one of the fifty clans as I understand it,”  Lust explained with a small smile. 133 took a small breath, trying to reconcile her self-perception with the name ‘Kew-Mei’. And she was confused.

“What is Xingese?” She asked, annoyed at being confused.

“Xing is a big country, east of Amestris, across the Eastern Desert,” Lust explained shortly.  Kew-Mei nodded slowly. So she came from another country, which must have made it easier for the doctor to dehumanize her then. She looked down at her hands, her clawed fingers.

“I suppose ‘Kitty would suit me better…I am more animal than human now,” Kew-Mei said, caught between bitterness and pleasure.

"Well, what would you prefer me to call you then?" Lust asked in a calm, almost bored manner although her eyes were dancing with an unnamed emotion which Kew-Mei had a sneaking suspicion was amusement.

"Did you not read it in my file?” She asked with a small smirk.

"I know what your name is _supposed_ to be," The woman said with a flick of her hand as if it were inconsequential. "I asked what _you_ wanted me to call you," She continued with a small smile.

“Call me what you will. I care not,” Kew-Mei decided after a moment of thought.

“I believe I will stick with Kitty.”

“Of course you will.”


End file.
